


My Pillar of Light in a World Full of Darkness

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, F/M, First Time, Horror, M/M, Season/Series 04, Threesome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-21
Updated: 2009-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam has been trying to hold on to his humanity, clinging to Dean to keep himself from painting the world red. But how is he supposed to keep fighting when he realizes Dean has the same darkness eating away at him? DARKFIC. Evil!Sam and eventual evil!Dean. Spoilers for: 4.11 "Family Remains"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Just as an additional warning, this fic is very, VERY dark. If violence squicks you out, then run away as fast as you can.

I want to burrow inside of you until I feel nothing but your heartbeat thrumming all around me. I want to be suffocated by your presence. I want to drown in your soul.

 

Your beautiful, beautiful soul. Like a pillar of light that has kept me steady throughout the years, on the path of righteousness when I should have been, by all accounts, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in my wake.

 

I look in the mirror some days and see myself slipping, a step closer to damnation as yellow eyes briefly shine back at me. I’m a monster, I can feel it. The low thrum of anger and hunger that eats away at my guts until I feel like a hollow shell is proof enough.

 

But it’s when I completely lose control that I understand just how forsaken I am. It is only a week after you come back from hell and I hear you on the phone. You think I’m sleeping, but I am just listening, patiently, as you pace in the tiny bathroom and down beer after beer after beer. Your voice is raspy and husky as you said her name, “Cassie.”

 

Cassie. Fucking Cassie Robinson.

 

You haven’t mentioned her, not once, since we left Cape Girardeau what seems like ages ago. And I have to wonder how long you’ve been doing it: calling her, needing her, _loving_ her. You jack off in the bathroom, filthy words spewing from your lips, intended only for your whore on the other end of the phone, but I hear it too.

 

You crawl into bed shortly after, calm and lax from your recent release. You don’t even stir when I slip from my own bed and out the door. It’s not that far away, and I have all kinds of angry thoughts to keep me company during the drive.

 

She looks genuinely surprised to see me standing on her doorstep, like she doesn’t know what she’s been doing. Like she doesn’t realize that she’s been taking what is rightfully mine, the selfish little bitch. “Sam,” she blinks. “Is everything all right?” I give her a look of wide-eyed innocence and ask to be let inside. She doesn’t hesitate in unlocking the door and holding it open for me.

 

I take my time with her. I cut and burn and tear her open for hours until her living room is painted with blood and she is weakly sobbing things like, “no” and “why” and “oh, god, please don’t.” I smile then, and it’s all teeth and malice. “You know why, Cas,” I use Dean’s nickname for her to push in the barb just a little bit deeper.

 

“I don’t,” she cries. “I don’t. _Why are you doing this to me?_ ”

 

“Because you tried to take him away from me,” I reply coldly, letting the knife trail idly down her inner thigh. “He’s mine. He’s _always_ been mine.” I lean down until my face is right next to her ear and whisper, “Did you think you would win? Did you honestly believe he would ever choose you over me?”

 

She’s crying and begging for her life. The smell of blood and her constant stream of groveling are making me hard, so I fuck her. I want to feel what you feel, what makes you come running to her like a siren call. I want to know why you love her, when I’m _right there_ for the taking. I don’t feel anything, so I slit her throat and leave her body—or what is left of it—lying on the floor.

 

You’re still asleep when I get back and I have more than enough time to clean the gore off my skin and clothes. You look perturbed for the next few days, probably wondering why she isn’t returning your calls, but you never find out. You let it go and throw yourself headlong into hunting.

 

Cassie’s murder is the only time I have lost control, and I can't forget the too-good glassy look of death in her brown eyes. Of course, there is the nagging voice in the back of my mind, whispering encouragement or disapproval as it sees fit. I promise myself it won’t happen again, don’t want to see the pain in your eyes when you realize what I’m becoming.

 

Then we stop underneath the bridge for lunch. I hand you a cheeseburger and you just toss it aside, disgusted. I want to scream at you when you say you’re worse than those backwoods, murdering hicks. Don’t you see how beautiful you are? Don’t you realize you’re my last thread of humanity?

 

You liked it. You tell me you liked torturing those souls in hell. You _enjoyed_ tearing them apart, and I can feel my stomach lurch, pleasantly and unpleasantly at the same time.

 

I fuck you against the hood of the car and it’s rough, no time for proper lube or preparation when I need you so much. You let out a startled little gasp when I unzip your fly, and you even try to protest. But I know you, Dean. I know you want this as much as I do; you need it and crave it every second of the day.

 

You cry afterward. I’m not expecting that, and I don’t know what to do when you flinch away from my touch. It’s two weeks of silence and barely-suppressed pain after that. You’re trying to avoid me, to run away, but I tie you to the headboard and fuck you so sweetly you can’t help but beg for more. Then, I let you watch as I hack a girl to pieces in the other bed.

 

You look disgusted, frightened even, by the carnage and the slight glint of yellow you see in my eyes. You try to tell me to stop, but I don’t. I don’t stop because I know you don’t really want me to. You’re just saying it because you think you should, because you think it might make you a little less damned.

 

I do it every night for months. I let you watch from your bed as I slowly pull them apart, piece by piece and scream by scream. But tonight, I’ve got a pretty little boy under my hands. He looks a little bit like you, with the sandy hair and freckles and sinfully-long eyelashes.  He can't be older than nineteen and he looks so wonderfully debauched that I have a hard time containing myself.  I haven’t started carving him up yet when you ask to be untied. You always ask it, but there is something different in your voice this time… something dark and unnameable.

 

I let you free and you pound into me while I fuck him. He’s moaning and arching against me, legs trying to wrap around both of our bodies. Every snap of your hips is brutal and it forces me further into the boy every time. Soon, he doesn’t know whether to beg me or you for more, so he settles for both.

 

You help with this one. You match every cut and burn and bite mark, and I know you like it. I can feel your hard-on pressing against me as we paint our masterpiece. When he finally stops breathing, you press me against blood-soaked sheets and fuck me again and again.  We clean up afterward and dump his body in the dumpster behind the motel. You lean in and kiss me long and slow while my back is flush against the cool metal. “I love you, Sammy,” you whisper, carding your fingers through my hair.

 

“I know,” I reply. “I love you too.”

 

I want to burrow inside you until I feel nothing but your heartbeat thrumming all around me. I want to be suffocated by your presence. I want to drown in your soul.

 

You are my everything. You are the one I’ve loved since before I even knew the meaning of the word. You are the one that has held on to me as the world crumbled beneath me. You are just like me, damaged and forsaken, damned to be condemned by the world for the things you’ve done. But you’re strong and beautiful, and you’ll be standing next to me when I tear everything apart and build it back up.

 

You’ll be my pillar of light when I plunge the world into darkness.


End file.
